You Have Five Minutes
by fortheloveoffaberry
Summary: A story about how a short amount of time can feel like the longest, and a story about how Rachel Berry really stopped thinking it mattered.


Honestly, it started off as any other day.

She had woken up at precisely 6:00 A.M., finished up her elliptical workout at 6:30, showered, dressed, and pampered by 7:00, and was out the door with a bowl of freshly cut fruit to eat in the car at 7:15.

At exactly 7:32 A.M. she had walked through the front doors of a quiet William McKinley High School. She nodded her head towards Tina with a small smile 24 seconds later, and spun her locker combination in 28 seconds after that.

It took 8 seconds for her to put in last nights homework's book in the locker and exchange it with the one for her first period. Not a second after that she was down the hallway towards the choir room.

Once she arrived at exactly 7:35, she placed her book and bag down in the same exact spot she did every morning - right beside the piano bench - and began practicing her scales and today's Glee assignment. Her voice filled the room as her eyes carefully scanned the sheet music she had laid in front of her. It was difficult to keep track of time when she got lost in the music; but thankfully, the school's bell system would keep track of time for her.

The bell resounded loudly at 7:57, right as she was going to hit the highest note of Defying Gravity. She grumbled at the interruption, but packed her music away in the 20 second time frame she allotted in her schedule for such a rudimentary task.

Her first class of the day, Honors English IV, was two minutes away from the choir room. Given the fact that the slushie facials had died down some time ago, and people usually were headed to their classes by now, she figured that she would probably be able to reach Ms. Hankin's classroom _before_ the two minute mark. She smiled at the thought as she slipped her bag onto her shoulders and walked down the clearing hallway.

As predicted, she arrived to her class at 7:59 with a satisfied grin on her face. There were many things that could add a pep to her step, like getting the big solo or having her hair flow just the right way, but there was one thing that always added a little extra oomph to the pep - and that was being punctual. If someone were to ask her why that was, she wouldn't be able to explain it, really. She'd probably gather the largest words she could and form them into a possibly non-coherent sentence as a way to get them to _think_ she explained it. It was something unexplainable. It was something that just made her feel… well, _good._

She bit her lip as she watched the clock's second hand tick down.

"_5… 4… 3… 2… 1…"_

_BEEP!_

At exactly 8:00 A.M. she smirked and thought, _"Right on time, as always."_

* * *

After sitting through a lecture on the difference between independent and dependent clauses, she looked up from her journal. The teacher had called her name.

"Yes, Ms. Hankin?"

"Will you and Quinn go take these down to the office for me?"

Her stomach turned at the mention of the blonde, but she couldn't really point out why. She smiled politely at her teacher, however, and nodded, "Yes, Ms. Hankin, we'd be happy to."

She looked over at the blonde who had already stood from her seat without a word and had walked over towards her. She knew that they weren't the best of friends, but since they had recently seemed to put the past behind them and stand on a firmer ground, she was more than hopeful that this small trip to the office would be a piece of cake. They probably didn't even have to talk to each other.

Quinn took the papers from Ms. Hankin and the two turned towards the door, beginning to make their way out.

"No more than five minutes, girls."

She noted that it was 8:24; class got out at 8:42. They still had plenty of time to walk the papers to the office in five minutes and get back to class before the second period bell even rang. She smirked at this thought; she'd still have time to pack her belongings in an orderly fashion and possibly play a round of Candy Crush on her phone. Life was good.

The pair walked down the hallway to no sound beside the tapping of their shoes against the tile.

Her mind began to wander. She thought of her steps like the ticking of a clock. Each step a second. Each one bringing her closer to one thing, and further from another. The distance of her steps the small space between each line dashed into the clock's face.

"You're unusually quiet, Manhands."

She just hummed and glanced over at the girl, before returning to her thoughts. While it was true that she could be quite the chatterbug, it didn't mean that she _always_ had to be one. She appreciated what silence was, and in a school like McKinley, silence didn't come often.

And it usually didn't stay long.

The hallway intercom buzzed to life and the slightly panicked voice of crackled through the speakers, "Students and staff the offices are now closed. I repeat the offices are now closed."

The pair immediately looked at each other with wide eyes, their feet glued to the floor. They had been taught to be aware of that phrase since they were in sixth grade. It was a phrase that meant one thing and one thing only.

_Hide._

* * *

This couldn't be happening. This _couldn't_ be happening. This was _not_ in her schedule.

She barely registered the sound of paper hitting and flying across the floor.

She felt a hand grasp her's and she looked over at Quinn, whose eyes were full of fear. She had never seen the blonde look so scared - not even when she had been pregnant a couple years before.

"Come on. Now."

Her feet involuntarily followed Quinn's. Her eyes darted everywhere nervously. Their steps were like bullets in a game of Russian Roulette now; they had no idea whether or not their steps were bringing them closer to or further from the gunman that lurked the school. He could be anywhere.

After what felt like an eternity, but had really only been 12 seconds (she had counted), Quinn led them to an empty room and closed and locked the door. Her hand was still firmly latched onto Quinn's. She really, honestly, did not mind at all; she had a feeling that Quinn didn't either.

The blonde dragged her over the corner furthest from the door and sat them down against wall. She took in as much of her surroundings as she could. The lights were off, the room was practically pitch black - only the dimmest of light coming through the small door window. She mentally noted to thank Quinn later for choosing a room without main windows; if there was a later.

"_Stop thinking like that, this instant! You will make it out of here! Your destiny is to be a star, that cannot be cut short!"_

She shook her head and began focusing on adjusting her eyes to the darkness. She began to make out the lined desks that held computers on top of them. They must have ran into Mr. Hurst's computer lab. He didn't have a first period. She didn't know whether or not to think that was a lucky thing.

Her breathing was coming out in short breaths and the hand that wasn't currently squeezing off Quinn's circulation was shaking uncontrollably.

This was not what was supposed to be happening.

This is not what she had planned on.

It had definitely been more than the five minutes they were allotted, hadn't it?

God, what time was it?

Her free fingers began drumming on the cold floor beside her.

"_1, 2, 3; 1, 2, 3; 1, 2, 3,"_ she repeated in her head. The repetitiveness is what kept her sane. The routine. The process. It was solid and stable. It calmed her.

"Please, stop," she heard Quinn whisper quietly with a shaky voice, "It's making my anxiety triple what it already is."

She bit her lip and nodded, even though she was sure Quinn couldn't see her, and pressed her hand flat against the floor.

She didn't understand why it made the girl more nervous, but she wasn't about to question it. It was definitely not time for one of their signature arguments.

She continued to count in her head. It had been exactly 46 seconds since Quinn had spoken. It felt like 46 minutes.

"I know I shouldn't talk because they could hear us, but I'm really, really, really scared," Quinn breathed out almost mutely.

She wanted to say something, anything, to comfort the girl, but she couldn't seem to find her voice; unlike earlier, she had wanted to not talk, but now… now she couldn't.

She settled for squeezing the blonde's hand and scooting closer. Her thumb running up and down the back of Quinn's hand. It quickly became her repetitive motion. Quinn didn't seem at all bothered by this one.

"_Back and forth; one, two. Back and forth; one, two."_

"Do you have your phone with you, Berry? I left mine back in the room." Quinn asked softly.

She shook her head, hoping that Quinn could see her through the darkness with their close proximity. She had left her phone in her bag back in the classroom because, well, those were the rules; only allowed to have it out at the very end of class. She wished that she had broken the rules this one time. Not even for the ability to be able to contact the outside world, but simply for the fact that her phone has a clock. She couldn't risk getting up to look at the clock that was near the door, and she definitely could not risk turning on one of the computers. What if it wasn't muted and made some large noise? What if the intruder saw the computer screen light through the tiny window on the door? It wasn't worth the risk.

She closed her eyes and quietly rested her head against the hard wall behind her. Her ears strained for any sort of sound that wasn't their breathing. She heard no footsteps out in the hallway, gunshots, or screaming. Maybe the cops had already come through, or maybe the gunman was herding the hostages into one room like cattle, ready for branding with a-

"Berry, your thoughts are so loud they can probably hear us," Quinn said quietly as just a comment, without malice or criticism.

She thought that maybe talking was to Quinn, as time was to her.

She squeezed Quinn's hand lightly and went back to thinking of her mantra, _"Back and forth; one, two. Back and forth; one, two."_

God, what time was it?

"Berry, I realize I shouldn't be talking, I know, I know I shouldn't be, but I can't seem to stop. It's like we have traded places or something," Quinn said in a soft voice that wasn't really conversational; it was more of a tone that had no tone at all. It was just words that seemed to tumble out from between Quinn's lips almost silently with only the slightest inflections or diction.

"There's someone in our school, right now. Someone bad. They could come in here at anytime and find us," Quinn muttered, "And there would be no where to go. We would just have to accept our fate in a matter of seconds."

Seconds. She mulled over the word itself instead of dwelling on the whole of Quinn's ramble. She couldn't deal with what Quinn's words meant. 'Seconds' was a much more welcome theme of thought in her mind. It was 13 long seconds before Quinn started speaking again.

"Fate is a weird thing, isn't it? Because fate is fate, but still, it can be changed. Everything about fate is just one weird concept that what is meant to happen is going to happen; but what about when something crazy like this happens? Is this really fate- is dying when the gunman comes in here, my- our fate? Or can we change this? Like, you're supposed to go onto Broadway and live this _amazing_ life in New York City, not die in some ratass town from some crazy lunatic that decided to bring a gun into a school."

She considered this deeply when Quinn paused. Fate was just a concept, but was it real too? She knew in her heart that Broadway was her destiny, but it wouldn't be if the gunman found them.

Time was a weird concept too, wasn't it? A man-made idea as a way to keep track of how the earth revolved around the sun and when it was time to plant and harvest crops? Time, or life, would just stop if the gunman were to come into the room and pull the trigger. Rachel shivered at the thought and continued her thumb on the back of Quinn's hand, _"Back and forth; one, two. Back and forth; one, two."_

"If I were to die today, I would have so many regrets," Quinn continued quietly, a sadness lacing each syllable, "I would regret not learning how to ride horses, and regret giving up piano. I'd regret a lot of small things like that. But, above all, there are two things I'd regret the most… Do you want to know them?"

Her mind was swimming at the information Quinn was giving her. The blonde was actually opening up to her, and she loved it; unfortunately, it took a life-threatening situation for it to happen. She turned to look over at Quinn. In the darkness she was only barely able to make out that Quinn's eyes were closed. She focused her eyes on Quinn's lips. Her bottom one was caught between her teeth nervously as she waited for her to respond. She still couldn't find her voice, and once again settled for squeezing the blondes hand.

She heard a deep breath come from the blonde. It was released slowly before the girl spoke up into a whisper.

"My biggest regret would be not being able to hold Beth everyday and tell her I love her; that she wasn't a mistake or a regret. That she was the best thing that had ever happened to me."

She felt Quinn shudder next to her. For the first time during the duration of their stay in this room (How long had it even been?), she intertwined the fingers of their previously clasped hands and scooted as close as she could get to the girl beside her.

When quiet sobs began to rack Quinn's body exactly 2 seconds later, she quickly moved her hand holding Quinn's to around the blonde's body. The hand that had still been flat against the floor found it's way to intertwining itself with Quinn's fingers. She held tight onto the blonde as the girl cried, gently rocking and running her free hand gently up and down Quinn's arm.

Then, the door handle shook.

They instantly froze, Quinn's breath audibly caught in her throat.

A small clatter suddenly resounded outside of the door and a firm, "Damnit" came from a low voice. She didn't know what to think it was that fell; bullets, a gun, a knife?

This was it. This was the end. She was going to die in a small, horrible town in the arm's of her ex-enemy, never getting the pleasure of even performing in an Off-Broadway production.

She held onto the other girl tighter as Quinn's body shook and their eyes met. The blondes eyes were full of fear and trepidation.

The door handle began shaking again, the low voice grunting angrily when the door wouldn't open.

"My other biggest regret," Quinn forced the words out in a hurry, her eyes boring into hers with a spark of determination, not knowing how much time she had, "would be waiting so long to do this."

Quinn pulled her close and their lips meeting in desperation and panic. Quinn's hand immediately cupped her cheek. The explosion she felt was not from a gun, and it ripped it's way through her heart; filling her body with heat, butterflies, and fireworks. She squeezed Quinn's hand tightly and pulled her impossibly closer. If she had to die today, this was how she wanted to go out; filled with butterflies and a totally out of place and unexpected jolt of happiness. She lost track of how many seconds, ticks and tocks, there were in her mind; she didn't really care.

She just cared that Quinn's lips were on hers. She had never ever felt this before, she never ever wanted it to stop.

They pulled away gasping for air after what seemed like forever - not that Rachel had been counting - when the door began rattling louder. Their eyes met. Her breath caught at the totally unguarded gaze of one Quinn Fabray - a gaze filled with fear, tears, sadness, but most surprisingly, _love_.

The door busted open behind her, and she watched as Quinn closed her eyes shut tightly and whispered, "Goodbye, Rachel, I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered back quickly, squeezing her eyes shut waiting for the inevitable sound of a gunshot to her back.

Instead she heard, "Girls?"

Their eyes flew open at the same time and turned around to look at a very confused Mr. Hurst. Relief immediately flooded through her.

"Mr. Hurst!" They both immediately cried out, quickly getting their feet and running over to him. Their arms both instantly found their way around him, hugging him to pieces.

"Is everyone alright? Were there any injuries? Did they get that evil, evil madman?" Rachel asked quickly, finally finding the rest of her voice.

The orangy-redhaired teacher pulled away from the attack hug with wide, confused eyes, quickly flipping the lights on before anybody saw the strange scene.

"Rachel, what are you talking about?"

She looked over at silent, puffy-eyed Quinn with a furrowed brow before turning back to the teacher.

"Mr. Figgins came on the announcements that the offices were closed. That's the signal for their being a gunman in the school. Everyone is okay, right? Did they catch him?"

A small smile tilted the lips of the bearded teacher as his eyes sparkled with amusement, "Rachel, it was a drill."

Her jaw fell open and her arms flailed into the air, "It was a DRILL?"

He chuckled and nodded, "Yes, girls, that was a drill. A new policy states that the school must perform lockdown drills twice a year now to make sure that the students and staff alike know the procedure correctly. One in each of the two semesters. The teachers aren't allowed to warn the students about them because the the students may just goof off during it."

"But, but! Why did it take forever for you to open your door! And, and why did no one come looking for us? And why didn't Mr. Figgins announce the end of the drill?"

The teacher crossed his arms and shook his head with another chuckle, "One, my door is always open and unlocked because it's an enormous pain in the neck to open. I ended up dropping my keys, too, which didn't help."

She felt relief go through her when he mentioned the keys, even though it was beginning to become clear that there hadn't been a gunman in the school at all.

"It was broken a couple months ago because some boys wouldn't stop messing with it. Two, they probably did. They just probably figured that you wouldn't be in a locked, dark room. And three, let's just be honest, Figgins isn't the brightest crayon in the box; of course, we will keep that between ourselves, right, girls?"

Her arms fell limply beside her and she stared incredulously at the teacher with the last bit of doubt that she had, "We've been in here _forever_, drills cannot possibly last that long!"

Quinn cleared her throat quietly, catching her attention, and pointed to the clock. If even possible, her jaw fell even more.

No.

No, there was no way.

It was 5 seconds to 8:42.

"_5… 4… 3… 2… 1…"_

_BEEP!_

Almost instantaneously, noise began filling the hallway.

If Mr. Hurst hadn't come in for his first class of the day and they had waited a couple of more minutes she would've known exactly what time it was. She couldn't believe she had totally forgotten about the bell system. The thought internally frustrated her. She would've known the time frame earlier if she hadn't been so scared. She now had a four minute passing time to get to her second class.

Her eyes widened and she looked between Quinn and Mr. Hurst wildly. There was _no way_ she would be able to make it to her second period class before the four minute mark this time.

She turned to look at Quinn fully, who was scratching lightly at her upper arm and biting her lip nervously. The blonde was avoiding her eyes, and that's when it all came back to her.

Quinn had said she _loved_ her.

And she had said it _back._

Her eyes widened to a comical size and her mouth formed into a small 'o' shape. She probably didn't need to get there before the four minute mark anyway, right? She spun on her heel back to the teacher, "Well, it seems as if Quinn and I have made a rather good show of ourselves, so I suppose it's time we take our leave now."

She nodded towards the chuckling teacher before taking the blondes hand and dragging her out into the crowded hallway.

She dragged Quinn into an empty bathroom and locked the door behind them. Her eyes met nervous hazel ones. Butterflies immediately ripped their way through her.

A small smile found it's way onto her lips, and Quinn's signature eyebrow raised slightly in question.

"So…" She started off quietly, stepping closer to the blonde, "Did you mean what you said back there?"

The blonde licked her lips nervously and looked everywhere besides her eyes before speaking, "Well, I mean uhm, I just.. _facta non verba_, if you will, I suppose."

She smirked at Quinn's loss of words, since the blonde hadn't been unable to stop talking a mere few minutes ago.

"_Facta non verba_, huh? So I should take you at your actions then?" She stepped close to the blonde, their lips just inches from each other.

She breathed out lowly while her eyes dropped to Quinn's soft, pink lips, "Can you remind me what those actions were?"

She saw Quinn's eyes drop from hers to her lips with a slight nod. The excitement and adrenaline was still coursing through their bodies as Quinn's shaking hand cupped her cheek. She leaned in closer, and their lips met slowly this time.

They weren't going to die today. This was just the beginning. They had all the time in the world.

Their lips slid over one another gingerly, relishing the feel of the smooth, comforting warmth of each other. They leaned against the bathroom wall as they added a little more pressure to the kiss. Her hand intertwined with Quinn's, and her other cupped itself behind the blonde's ear.

The bell rang, signaling the start of second period.

She really didn't care.

**A/N: Thank you for reading! I had so much fun writing this. I would love to hear your thoughts about this, so feel free to leave a review. I'd really love it! Shoutout to Ashley for being a true champ and awesome person for helping me out with the title and pre-reading it! Again, thank you guys for checking this out!**


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